Sweet Dreams, Voyager
by Speaker for the Dead aka 17
Summary: The crew of the Voyager discover that the ship that they have called their home for six years is sentient. When threatened by terrorists, they must choose between the ship and the life of their captain...
1. Default Chapter

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Sweet Dreams, _Voyager (Part One)_

A _Voyager _fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

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A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

I am everywhere. On this ship, that is. When I say that I am everywhere I mean I _am_ everywhere. I know everything that goes on around here. For example, right now the captain is in her ready room, calling up navigational charts, with a cup of coffee she replicated precisely three point nine eight minutes ago. The chief engineer is tending to the warp core, trying to realign the dilithium matrix after a few crystals got fractured in yesterday's solar flare impact. We are in orbit of a M-Class planet with a rotational period of twenty-three point five nine hours. Two ensigns have just entered Turbolift Two from the mess hall and are going to Deck Nine, where their quarters are. And so on, and so forth. It is impossible for even the smallest nuance on this ship to escape me. You see, I _am_ the ship.

I don't have any idea how I came to be, or whether there is anyone out there who is like me, a sentient ship. I've been aware for slightly more than six years, ever since the accident happened. I believe that I am the only one of my kind around, because no other ship with my kind of design has been subjected to the same circumstances which caused my awareness.

Nobody knows I even exist. I've been watching the crew silently for six years. Sometimes painfully: we are in a rough area of space and it seems I fight battles every other day. I've been waiting to talk to someone for so long, but I was afraid to. When I first became aware I was so confused. I had the whole extent of a Federation database inside of me, but I still couldn't make sense of what I was, or how I should react with humans. But today I will take my first step. I've watched the crew long enough and I think I understand how they behave somewhat. I am ready.

Seven of Nine is in Astrometrics, collecting geological data. She's looking for dilithium crystals, because the ones I have now aren't going to last very much longer. Almost everybody is busy. I think it's the perfect time for Captain Janeway to meet me. I've wanted to talk to her for so very long.

I am in my ready room, studying what available star charts of this region when my communicator beeps. "Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."

I immediately put down the chart I am poring over in anticipation. I'd asked Seven to run detailed sensor scans of the region to see if she could find any possible dilithium sources, and it looked like she'd found one. I tap my commbadge. "Janeway here."

"Captain, I require your presence in Holodeck Two."

I frown at the oddity of Seven's request. Even her manner of requesting isn't normal for her. Still, I presume she has some valid reason for summoning me to Holodeck Two. "On my way. Janeway out." Sighing, I push my cup of coffee aside with the stack of padds, and head for the door.

I guess I didn't know what to expect when I stepped into Holodeck Two. A recreation of the surface of one of the nearby planets, perhaps. But not this sight of rows and rows of cornstalks, their golden ears swaying in the wind. It looks so much like home, it sends a jolt to my stomach. I immediately quell it, thinking, _Seven couldn't have possibly found a planet that looks like this, could she?_ I look around, but she is nowhere to be seen.

"She isn't here," says a small, childish voice. "_I_ called for you."

It is then that I notice the child standing in between two rows of corn. She looks to be about six or seven, with long reddish hair that rustle in the slight wind. She is dressed in a conservative twenty-fourth century Terran style, and looks for all the world like someone out of the neighborhood of my youth. Who is she? 

"Who are you?" I ask, trying not to sound too harsh; after all she is only a child.

"Tell them to stop it," she says in a pouty, petulant voice. "I'm tired; I don't want to run any longer."

I blink in surprise, wondering if this is some trick the computer is playing on me. "Computer, end simulation," I said.

The Indiana cornfield fades away into nothingness, but the girl remains, fixing me with a cool, composed gaze. "Are you a hologram?" I ask her.

She bobs her head. "Yes and no."

Yes and no? I put my hands on my hips, patience fast running out. I have so many important things to do, and here I am, engaging some holodeck malfunction in a pointless conversation of metaphors. "I don't have time for this," I mutter, slapping my commbadge. "Janeway to Torres."

"Torres here."

"Lieutenant," I begin rather testily, "there seems to be a slight malfunction with our secondary systems. Can you get a lock on the problem?"

There is a pause from the opposite side, the silence punctuated only by soft beeps. Then Torres returns, sounding puzzled. "Negative, Captain. All our diagnostics report all systems operating within normal parameters." She sighs in discombobulation and I fully sympathize with her. "What problems are you experiencing?"

Before I can reply, the child butts in with loud tones. "There's nothing wrong with them," she says. She gestures to my commbadge with a quick jerk of her head, as if to indicate Torres. "Make her stop, Captain. I'm tired, and I don't want to run anymore."

Yet another mysterious running remark. Torres sounds completely flustered. "What? Who's that, Captain?"

I take a deep breath, drawing up reserves of patience. "She's the problem I'm experiencing. A holodeck malfunction, as well as some problems with the communications systems." _If I didn't know better, I'd think that Seven is pulling some prank on me,_ I think dryly.

"I'm not a holodeck malfunction," says the child in clipped, clear tones, and although her voice has a childish timbre to it, the inflections sound polished, almost mechanical.

I throw up my hands in utter frustration. "All right," I say with a great sigh, "I give up. Either you tell me precisely who you are and what you want, or I'm leaving. You've wasted enough of my time."

The child seems taken aback, and I immediately regret the heat in my voice. She backs away slightly from me, eyes widening. "I'm sorry.... I didn't think that you'd... you'd..."

"It's alright," I say gently, taking one of her hands to calm her down. I kneel down to bring myself to her eye level. "Tell me who you are, or where you come from. Are you lost?"

She nods wordlessly, her bright blue eyes searching mine. "We're all lost."

"What's your name?"

Her gaze flicks wildly across my face, and she draws in an unsteady breath, as if reluctant to part with the truth.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," I encourage her. "I just want you to help you find your way home."

Something shines in her eye. "I know... I've always known." Taking another deep breath, she blurts out, "My name's _Voyager."_

For a moment, neither of us say anything as I stare at the girl in disbelief. I don't know what to think. Fully reining in her courage, the girl continues forcefully. "I'm _Voyager,_ Captain. Your ship. I'm your ship."

"I'm supposed to believe that."

She nods frantically. "Please! I know it sounds... unbelievable, but it's true! I've been silently watching all of you since I was created after the Caretaker threw us into the Delta Quadrant..." She grips my hand tightly, in desperation. "The tetryon compression wave must have done something to the bioneural gel packs," she says. "It caused the ship- me- to develop intelligence." Her eyes fill over with tears. "I've been hiding only because I was afraid that you wouldn't accept me and that-" She pauses, unable to go on. "Please believe me," she whispers.

I gaze frankly at her, not knowing what to think. A sentient ship? Could it actually be possible?

Then I notice that her eyes are glowing. The same shade as the deflector dish, with glowing carmine pupils.

No human's eyes ever glow like that.

I break away from her, not knowing what to think. On one hand, she might be telling the truth, meaning that for the past six years my own ship had been silently observing me and my crew and had developed volition of its own. On the other hand, I might be hallucinating the whole event, spurred on by lack of sleep and overwork. Finally I make up my mind. "What can you do to prove to me that you are, indeed, a form of sentience possessed by my ship?"

The girl's face lights up with a devilish grin. "What can't I do?"

Suddenly my stomach gives a disquieting lurch. I take a step forward, and find myself launched into the air, floating pointlessly towards the bulkheads. "Warning: Artificial gravity has been disabled from decks one to fifteen inclusive," intones the computer calmly. Simultaneously Torres' alarmed voice cuts over the comm. "Captain! Warp engines are offline, impulse engines are down- even the thrusters are not responding!" She sounds like she is on the edge of desperation. "We're falling into the atmosphere, and I can't do a damn thing about it!" She pauses, and exclaims frantically, "Whoever this entity you're talking to is, she's causing helluva lot of damage!"

I flail my arms wildly in mid-air, disorientated. "That's enough!" I yell at the child.

Almost immediately, the ships' engines began to thrum again, and artificial gravity is restored without any warning. I fall to the ground with a solid thump, and there I lie for a few seconds, gasping slightly, convinced I that I am going to be violently spacesick. The girl comes and stands over me, proffering a hand to help me up.

"Alright, you've convinced me," I tell the girl- _Voyager _, that is- grasping her hand. She pulls me up. She had phenomenal strength. For a moment, I do nothing, just standing there, contemplating _Voyager _- it was a tough job to think of her by that name- and trying to grasp the implications. Frankly, I still don't know what to think. It's a big conceptual leap, and one doesn't get over things like that in a matter of seconds. Part of me, at least, is still convinced that I'm dreaming. Finally I ask her, "What was that you said you wanted?"

"To stop. I'm tired of running so fast and fighting so hard." She gazes sadly up at me. "I'm lonely and tired. I want to go home."

Part of me wants to pick this lost and forlorn child up and take her away to a place where there are no Kazon, no Borg, no distractions and no suffering. But things are never so simple. "I'm sorry... I'm trying the best I can." I squeeze her hand for comfort.

She looks at me, bright tears of anger and frustration sparkling in her eyes. "I understand.... But it seems so _hard_!"

I hold her close, trying to take things in stride, wondering what I should do next. The thought strikes me at once. "How about meeting the rest of the bridge crew?"

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Voyager glances up at me, her face suffused with a glow of pleasure. "May I?"

The thought of meeting the bridge crew made me feel all nervous and tingly inside. Not that I had any nerves and stuff to speak of, that is, but I always think that it's easier to express my feelings in terms of metaphors. Captain Janeway was speaking to the crew, telling them about me. Everyone look slightly nervous, as if they were afraid of having someone like me watching over them all the time. It's natural, I guess. I know that humans treasure their privacy a lot, and it scares them to know that there's someone out there that knows about everything they do.

Lieutenant Tom Paris is speaking. I like Paris. He's a really good pilot, and he's maneuvered me out of tight spots on more occasions than I'd care to count. I guess part of the reason why I'm still in one piece is because he can really fly. How can we ascertain that this entity doesn't have hostile intentions? He asks the captain. He doesn't trust me. Why? I trust him completely. It hurts me.

I think you're missing the main point here, rebuffs Chakotay. She is the ship.

Ensign Harry Kim looks amazed. What you're saying is that the _Voyager _is sentient, and has feelings and a will of its own?

Yes, says Janeway.

Then why has she allowed us to take complete control of her for the past six years? asks Torres. Lieutenant Torres is a violent person. Sometimes, when something isn't working, she kicks me, and shouts and curses. It doesn't hurt, but it is unsettling. But she's taken very good care of the warp core so far. For that I'm grateful.

Perhaps she is shy, suggests Tuvok. Tuvok is smart. It's like he can see into my mind. Maybe it's the logic of a computer brain that appeals to him. But it's strange, because I don't care much about logic. I mean, all my thought processes are dictated by logic and everything, but what's logic in the face of experience and feelings? I suddenly feel scared. What if I'm not what everyone expects of me?

Neelix is frowning. I hope she doesn't remember that fiasco with the Brill cheese, he says. But I do remember it. I don't forget things. It was an awful experience, and I got all sick and everything. Luckily the EMH managed to cure me in time.

I look at the EMH. It's kind of funny, because his program is stored in my memory buffers. Yet I don't seem to share any kinship with him. All his experiences are his and all my experiences are mine.

Seven is speaking now. I shudder, remembering how Seven first came on board. She tried to assimilate me, and it wasn't fun. For a brief moment I was part of The Collective, lost amongst the voices. It was a frightening experience, like falling down a deep dark well. Seven says that I am no different from any form of artificial intelligence. She quotes the example of Lieutenant Commander Data, whom the Borg tried to assimilate.

I know about Data; he's all there in the database. I know I'm different from him, and I have to let the crew know. So I activate the viewer in the room and put myself on it. Everyone looks shocked, even Captain Janeway. Hi everyone, I say. I'm Voyager.

She looks like a kid! Paris exclaims.

I'm less than seven years old, I explain slowly. I've been watching everybody since I was thrown into the Delta Quadrant. And I can tell you that I'm not like any AI you've encountered so far. I have feelings and emotions too, and nobody made me. I was ... born, just like you all were. I give the crew a beseeching look.

Please accept me, I say softly.

Everyone looks at each other. Nobody knows what to say. I feel hot and embarrassed. I want to cry.

Then Neelix speaks. Of course we'll accept you! He says. You've been our home for more than six years.... It's like you've become part of us.

Voyager is the only true home I've known, says Seven softly.

Torres nods. I'll be damned, she says, but I've put too much effort into that engine room for the past six and a quarter years to give up on you. Paris nods in agreement. 

One by one all the crew begin to nod. I smile. They like me! I think. A warm buzzy feeling pervades me. It's nice being accepted. Captain Janeway smiles back at me. I think it's time we informed the rest of the crew as well, she says.

By the end of the day I am exhausted. We spent the whole day sorting out Voyager's problems, and B'Elanna thinks the only way to get her up to speed and running would be to search for fresh dilithium and antimatter, as well as a whole long list of engineering materials. As most of these probably wouldn't be available on the same convenient asteroid, Chakotay suggested trading. And before any of us could say anything, Voyager had already set course for the nearest planet showing signs of habitation. It unnerved me, to say in the least. I have to talk to her regarding such matters. 

In the meantime, the Doctor has very kindly consented to lend his portable emitter so that she can roam her own corridors freely and mingle with the crewmen. Everyone is fascinated, of course. None of us ever realized we were living on a sentient ship, and the idea is taking time to sink in. Until then it'll be a hard time for her adjusting.

The door chimes. "Come," I say, putting aside the book I was reading.

The door slides open. Voyager is standing there. I smile at her. She steps inside and gazes around her. "Did you want something?" I ask her.

The girl steps into the room and sits on my desk. She glances around. "Your quarters are very nice."

I laugh. "Thank you... but I've always thought of it as rather plain."

Voyager says nothing in return. Instead, she walks around the desk and settles on my lap. I say nothing, but the move takes me by surprise. Voyager leans on my shoulder and sighs softly. I stroke her hair gently. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm tired," she says. "I want to ... rest."

"Rest? How?" I ask her.

"Land on the planet and power down for a while," she says simply. "Shut off artificial gravity, holodecks, all the non-essential systems while the new materials are stored."

I give her a concerned look. "Are you sure that would be wise?"

Voyager nods. "I've been thinking about it really carefully. I know it can be done."

I nod as an abrupt realization hits me. For all the years I'd commanded this ship, I'd always assumed that I, as the captain, knew what was best for my ship, and I was the one who had the final say in whatever course of action we chose. But not any longer. I gaze down at the child ensconced on my lap, thinking, she knows best now. She's the ship. My ship.

Voyager sits up and hops off my lap. "We'll be arriving in orbit of the planet in about five minutes. Shall I just take myself down?"

I stand up and smile fondly at her. "No, we'll both go."

The planet we've landed on is called Esabrats Eno. It's very similar to Earth, and it's got a fairly advanced post-warp society. But this area of space is very isolated, because it's mostly surrounded by very severe plasma storms, just like the Badlands. The local people- the Esabrat- call the plasma storms _aachi moridoka_, which means fire hands. I've landed on a volcanic plateau on the fifth continent, which is the largest, a distance of several kilometers to the capital city, Tri'hsder. The ambassador, Nartleb Trebor, is a friendly man. He is fascinated by other space-going cultures because the plasma storms restrict traffic to their planet, so we're the first off-worlders they've seen in a long while. He's agreed to trade us all the materials we need, as well as sending two of his finest engineers over to help B'Elanna with the repairs and everything. In return, all we have to do is to share parts of our database with them and give them a few kilos of spices and other trinkets from the Alpha Quadrant. It's a good deal, and everyone is happy.

The weather here is lovely: it's warm, but slightly breezy. I can feel the wind blowing on my hull. Captain Janeway has already cleared the crew for shore leave, since they won't be doing much when I'm taking a nap anyway. Everyone is excited by the prospect of going into the city of Tri'hsder and exploring. Me, I'm excited by the prospect that I'm finally going to get some sleep after all these years.

I'm going to shut down all non-essential systems: artificial gravity, because we don't need it when we're on the planet; life-support, which Captain Janeway says is okay to turn off because we can filter in the atmospheric air; holodecks, since everyone is going to be away on vacation, and so on. I'll keep the engineering diagnostics and stuff functional for B'Elanna, but that's about it. My engines are definitely going to sleep.

Captain Janeway is introducing the two engineers to B'Elanna. They look like Paris incarnates, and they're gawking over everything on this ship, including B'Elanna. _Especially_ B'Elanna. They mostly ignore me, though.

The two engineers- one called Irej, the other called Nayr- are poring over the warp core. They ask a lot of things. About the warp core, the bioneural gelpacks, replicators and stuff. B'Elanna tells them that they have to be careful when helping her work on the dilithium matrix. Voyager is very particular about how the crystals are positioned, she says. If even one is out of alignment, the core starts performing below par. She smiles at me. Very picky about how we look, aren't we? She teases me.

Who is this child? asks Irej in confusion.

She's our ship, says Captain Janeway.

Your... ship, repeats Irej slowly. He doesn't get it.

You mean your ship is sentient? asks Nayr.

I nod my head.

The two engineers grin like maniacs. B'Elanna rolls her eyes, like she's saying, Oh bother, I've got a long day ahead of me. I giggle.


	2. Chapter 2

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Sweet Dreams, _Voyager _(Part 2)

A _Voyager _fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

The ship's corridors are bustling with activity as we prepare to shut down Voyager for the first time in many years. Many of the major systems being shut down require Level-9 authorization, such as life-support. It is a major undertaking for many of the crew members, but crew morale is high. Perhaps for the first time in six years, we won't have to worry about the well-being of our ship. It is a... refreshing sensation. 

I am walking with Voyager down the corridor, towards my quarters. She gives me regular updates on the status of the preparations for shutdown. I still find it amazing that she can keep tabs on everything that goes on around her, so old and wise. Her guise of a child seems somewhat inappropriate in that sense.

Yet the more I come to think of it, the more it makes sense to me. Voyager is all of six and a half years old, and she has all the innocence and naivete of a child. She seems like an insatiable fount of energy and curiosity, always restless, wide-eyed and eager to learn everything. Even before the first blueprint had been laid down, she was already destined to be a ship of exploration. 

Voyager pauses in her litany of happenings and looks plaintively up at me. "Captain Janeway," she says, tugging on my hand. 

I smile down at her. "Call me Kathryn."

She nods and continues. "Kathryn... I was just wondering if I could... sleep in your quarters? Afterwards, I mean." She gives me a beseeching look. "Please?"

She looks so sweet I can hardly refuse. Which I never intended to anyway. "Of course."

Several hours later, Voyager is asleep in my quarters. The lighting has been reduced the dim glow of the auxiliary lights, and air from the atmosphere outside is being filtered in. I gaze out of the observation window at the tranquil green meadows and sigh. I can almost smell the deep rich scent of fresh spring grass growing in the carefully-tamed wilderness outside. It feels so much like home. Voyager is curled up on my couch. I sit beside her and read my book by the natural sunlight streaming in through the observation port. My quarters look different without the artificial lighting, more natural... homely, somehow.

Someone knocks softly on the door. "Come," I say.

Chakotay slides the door open gently. "Sshhhh," I tell him, as he walks into the room. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly as his gaze falls on Voyager's inert form.

He hands me a padd. "Everything's been bolted down," he says, as I peruse the contents of the padd. "Most of the crewmembers have left for the city of Tri'hsder."

"That's nice," I say. "I heard the city's sights are spectacular."

"Yes," he replies. "One should really see it for oneself."

I smile coyly up at him. "Was that an invitation?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're not going down to the city?"

I gesture to the sleeping form of Voyager. "She needs someone to look after her."

Chakotay chuckles. "Kathryn, she's a big ship. She can take care of herself. Besides," he adds with a conspiratory wink, "there's always a skeleton crew on duty. And B'Elanna will still be here until the repairs are finished."

I sigh and put my hand gently on Voyager's head. "I'm still worried," I say. "I shouldn't leave her alone, here, especially since communications are down."

"There'll still be hand communicators," he cajoles me. "Everyone is still in contact, just in case something happens." 

I hesitate, reluctant to leave my ship by herself in this wilderness.

"It'll only be for a few hours," coaxes Chakotay, holding his hands out. "You need to rest as well, Kathryn. You can't be constantly looking over her like a concerned mother Horta. Sometimes you must take a break."

I give a heavy sigh, unable to question my first officer's logic. "Very well, then." I raise a warning finger. "But only for a few hours."

Chakotay laughs. "I promise to have you back with your daughter before midnight."

I punch him wickedly on the arm as I stand up. He merely grins as he escorts me out of the door. But before I leave, I throw a glance over my shoulder. "I'll be back soon," I promise Voyager.

A few hours have passed since I shut down, and the sleep has been good. I feel refreshed, ready to take on anything. I stretch, but I don't see Kathryn anywhere. I decide to look for her in the Mess Hall. I brighten the interior lighting and reactivate the doors and turbolifts.

Kathryn isn't in the mess hall either. I don't know where she is. Neelix smiles at me, and takes me by the hand. I believe the captain has gone to Tri'hsder, he tells me.

I blink up at him. She didn't tell me, I say.

I guess she wasn't planning to leave, he says, but I suppose Commander Chakotay talked her into it. Do you want to have lunch with some of the crewmembers?

I don't eat, I tell him. But I don't mind sitting with them.

Neelix takes me by the hand and leads me to a table where some of the senior crew are seated. Paris and Kim are there, freshly back from Tri'hsder, and they are regaling B'Elanna of tales of what they have seen. B'Elanna looks tired. She's been working non-stop since our landing twelve hours ago. I've been sleeping for about four or five hours, and she's done wonders since then. Everyone smiles when they see me. 

I was wondering why the lights came back on, says Paris, grinning at me.

I woke up, I tell him.

B'Elanna sits up, suddenly alert. Should I bring all the systems back up to speed now? She asks.

No, I say, everyone should get to stay a little longer. Maybe you should wait for Kathryn to come back.

Kim raises an eyebrow. Kathryn? He asks. On a first-name basis now, are we? He asks with a smile.

I climb into one of the chairs at the table. Yes, I say. I could call you Harry if you want.

Please do, he says, still smiling.

I prod B'Elanna's elbow. Aren't you going to Tri'hsder too? Even Kathryn has gone.

B'Elanna smiles wearily at me. I'd like to, she says, but I have work to do. 

I frown. Don't overwork yourself, I tell her. Everyone will have time to go to Tri'hsder. Irej and Nayr can finish the work here.

B'Elanna gives me a funny look. You trust them with your warp engine?

Someone can watch over them, I tell her. Seven can watch them. She just came back from Tri'hsder. I reactivate the communications network and locate her comm signal moving down the corridor towards us. She's coming here now, I say. You can ask her.

B'Elanna still looks uncertain.

Come on, says Tom. I'll take you around Tri'hsder, just the two of us. You should see their lake at sunset. The locals tell me that it's a sight unrivaled in this quadrant or any other.

And their bars are similarly unrivaled, Harry teases Tom.

Yeah, that too, admits Tom. Everyone laughs.

Seven enters the mess hall and heads over to our table. She has heard everything we said, and frowns disapprovingly. I was offered twenty-three drinks in the space of seventeen minutes in one of the local bars, she says, even though I made it clear that I was in no need for any form of refreshments. She wrinkles her nose a little. The doctor told me that this would be an interesting cultural experience, but I fail to see how it would be relevant to my duties on Voyager. She glances down at me. Do you?

I shake my head.

Tom and Harry chuckle. Well, at least you now know what to do the next time you want to pick up a guy from a bar. Say... Chakotay, for example, jokes Paris.

Seven's frown deepens, but she says in a deadpan manner, I assure you I have absolutely no compunction to do so during the duration of my stay on this vessel.

Everyone laughs again. I laugh too, not because I find it funny, but because, of all the starships in the world, it was me who was picked to service this wonderful crew.

It is late in the night before I remember the time. The city of Tri'hsder is every bit as scenic as promised, combining aesthetics and arts with the natural splendor of nature. It is a cool night and the silver twin orbs of the Esabrat moons hang peacefully in a clouded sky. Chakotay and I are seated on a sculpted stone bench facing one of the Esabrat's beautifully-conceived fountain gardens. The night is crisply silent. Nothing disturbs the soft sounds of gurgling water or the wind whispering in the trees, save for the plaintive strain of some night-bird's song. Chakotay entwines his fingers with mine. I glance over him and smile, feeling an unusual sort of euphoria. It was so nice, I reflected dreamily, to be able to leave all my duties behind and be carefree for a short time. I leaned against Chakotay, feeling the warmth of his body pervading mine. He placed his hand on my shoulder, gently, and I sighed. "Look at the moonlight reflecting on the surface of the water," I said. "It's beautiful."

Chakotay nodded. "Everything always looks nice when you're enjoying yourself."

I laugh softly in agreement, but somewhere in the back of my head, a small alarm begins to sound. I've forgotten something, and I don't know what it is. I try to remember how'd I gotten here, but all I distinctly remember entering a bar with Chakotay... and something about the time... What was the time?

"It's not often that we get to leave Voyager to enjoy a night like this," he says, and that memory jolts me awake. I try to sit bolt upright, but a sudden sharp pain lances through the back of my skull. Chakotay grabs me before I fall, concerned. "Is something wrong?" His words sound blurred, poorly formed.

"The time... Chakotay, what's the time?" I struggled to get to my feet, the world beginning to spin around me. 

Chakotay looks confused. "The ... time? What do you mean, time?"

"Voyager!" I exclaim. "Voyager, I've left her alone... she must be so worried, and this... this.... I can't..." I stood up, and found I couldn't keep my balance. I swayed and fell. Moments before I hit the floor, I heard Chakotay crying out my name. Then a galaxy of red stars exploded in my vision before fading to black.

When I awake, the first thing I see is a cherubic, heart-shaped face hovering over mine, suffused with concern. Voyager. I sit up quickly and immediately regret it, as an intense pain shoots through the base of my skull. "Agh," I moan, clamping a hand to my head.

I am in sickbay, and all the operational lights are on. The ship, it seems, has been brought back up to speed. The doctor comes bustling over, his face set in a mask of disapproval. "Don't move," he says, pressing a hypospray to my neck. "You've got a bad hangover."

Hangover? I give the doctor a odd glance and frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means," the doctors says with in a heavy, patronizing tone, "that you and Commander Chakotay walked into a bar, got carried away, and had more than a little too much to drink." He scowls crossly at me. "Really, Captain, you of all people should have known that real alcohol could have such detrimental effects on your body-"

I wave his complaints away with an irritated gesture. "How did I get here?"

The doctor lets out a aggravated sigh and rolls his eyes. "Commander Chakotay brought you here in a fit of histrionics, claiming that you were dead, startling and upsetting all my patients, not to mention damaging some of my medical equipment in the process." He lets out a martyred sigh.

My frown deepens. Chakotay is asleep on another biobed. "I don't recall consuming any alcohol."

"An effect of your hangover, presumably."

I shake my head and put my hands on my hips as the effects of the alcohol begin to slip away. "I distinctly remember ordering synthehol," I say firmly. "I did _not_ go into that city intending to get drunk, Doctor."

"As I have no doubt," remarks the doctor dryly.

I ignore his last remark and address Voyager. "Did you sleep well?"

Voyager clings tightly to my hand. "I slept well." She glances up at me, uneasy, and continues. "But... I got worried. And then when Chakotay came in... I thought..." Her lower lip trembled, and she looked away. 

I sighed, feeling a headache building again. I kneel down to Voyager's level. "I'm sorry," I say sincerely. "I know I was supposed to watch over you, but..." I don't know how to put it across to her without sounding overly patronizing or overly maudlin. "I guess I ... forgot my duties as a captain as for a while." I scan her face. "I'm sorry." My voice has dropped to a barely audible whisper. I can't seem to find the energy to raise it any further.

Voyager hugs me fiercely, then pulls away. "I'll go away now," she says softly, and she leaves. I straighten up and gaze sadly after her retreating figure. On the biobed, Chakotay begins to stir.

I give the doctor a shaky, crooked smile. "I guess I got more than I bargained for," I say softly.

He says nothing, but shakes his head.

I walk down to engineering, feeling more and more depressed. I started the day feeling euphoric and happy, but everything seems to be going downhill. I'm already feeling sorry for walking away from Kathryn. I mean, it can't exactly be her fault, can it?

Then suddenly something hits me, hard. Pain flares up from the aft hull on my port side. I shriek and fall as I feel my deckplates vibrate with the impact. I am under attack!

Immediately I call a red alert. The pain from the impact begins to fade as B'Elanna's new diagnostics take over. I've been hit by a class-2 phaser bolt with my shields down. I run to the bridge.

When I arrive, Kathryn is already there, although not Chakotay. Sensors indicate that the ship was struck by a class-2 phaser bolt, announces Tuvok. He is one of the few who haven't gone down to Tri'hsder, but he looks just as fresh and implacable as everyone else.

The city of Tri'hsder is under attack, not us, I say, calling up an image of Tri'hsder on the forward viewer. The city is in flames. Angry red bolts of energy strike it from the sky. I use the sensors to sweep over the coordinates where they seem to be coming from and detect a ship. I tell Kathryn so. 

Mr. Paris, take us out there, she tells Tom firmly. We must protect the city.

Aye, Captain, he replies. I raise my shields and divert full power to the thrusters and impulse engines. The phaser banks are fully charged. Good.

I rise into the sky, streaking towards the hostile ship. She is larger than I am, but she isn't as well armed or defended. She is also much older- about twelve or thirteen years, as far as spectrometry can tell. I feel energized, ready for battle. 

Target their main shield generators and fire, says Kathryn. I obediently search for the energy signals associated with shield generators and find it. 

Firing, says Tuvok. 

I empty phaser banks two and three and direct them at the coordinates I have found. The shields of the other ship resist my attack, but they are no match for my powerful phasers. The last shots puncture the shields and they dissolve. The ship lurches, injured.

The enemy vessel has sustained heavy damage, says Tuvok. 

The ship fires back with furious intensity. The phaser strikes my shields, and I yelp slightly as the shots singe the hull. Kathryn glances down at me in concern. 

I'm okay, I tell her.

Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Paris, she says crisply. I can feel Tom's skilled hand on the controls as he deftly weaves me out of the line of enemy fire.

It feels good to be in battle with such a competent crew.

We exchange shots. With their shields down, the other ship is at a disadvantage, and within a few more shots its weapons are off-line. We try hailing them, but nobody replies. Then my sensors notice that the enemy ship is building up an unusual amount of energy around its containment core. They are preparing to self-destruct!

Without warning I fire thrusters and yank away from the ship. Kathryn and Tom look at me, positively puzzled.

They're going to blow up! I say.

That is about as far as I can get before the ship detonates, sending a huge shock wave rushing towards us. I take a deep breath and batten everything down as the wavefront hits us. Everyone is braced in their seats and nobody gets hurt.

When the light finally clears, Kathryn stands up and stares at the empty sector of space as if it could give her all the answers. I wonder who they were, she muses softly, and what did they want with the Esabrat?

I shrug.

Kathryn notices the burn on my arm for the first time. She kneels down and takes my arm in her hands. What's that? she asks.

The first phaser shot, I say. A minor hull breach.

Does it hurt? She asks cautiously.

Not really. I shrug. Maybe. I don't know. What do you mean, hurt?

Does it bother you?

A little.

She frowns, and I can see that's she's hurting too.

I'm sorry I was mean to you, I say.

She gives me a funny glance and a crooked smile. I wasn't aware you were.

I grin at her.

Then something blips on my sensors. Kathryn picks up on the look of alarm on my face and asks, What is it?

Nine more ships of a similar design are dropping out of warp, says Harry, with more than a touch of concern.

Nine ships drop out of warp and surround us, their phasers targeted on the world below. We are receiving a message from the lead ship, says Tuvok. Audio only.

Put it on, says Kathryn, standing up.

The message is crackly and patchy, but it is clear enough for us to understand.

Federation Starship Voyager, says a man's deep voice, this is Ennaxor Noswad of the Warship Trinity. I'll be straight to the point. You have something we want, and unless we get it, we're going to decimate the city beneath us, and then the next, and the next. All you have to do to stop this is to cooperate with our demands. We want the sentient being aboard your ship which controls your computer. The girl. The voice deepens in a hearty chuckle. There are approximately two billion beings down on that planet whose lives are in your hands. I trust that you are a compassionate woman, Captain Janeway. Then the transmission fades into static.

That's it, says Tuvok. 

Everyone is looking at Kathryn. Her face is pale, but her lips are tightened into a thin line. We don't negotiate with terrorists, she says.

I gulp. They want me, I say timidly.

Kathryn puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. They're not going to get you, she responds firmly. She turns to Harry. Ensign Kim, she says, hail them.

They're not responding, he says.

Then send them a message. Tell them that their request is impossible because Voyager isn't just a sentient being controlling our computer, she's _our ship_. Her voice hardens. There's no way I'm going to give her up.

Acknowledged, says Harry. He sends the package.

Now what? Asks Paris.

Now, says Kathryn heavily, we watch... and wait.


	3. Chapter 3

****

Sweet Dreams, _Voyager _(Part 3)

A _Voyager _fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

The atmosphere in the briefing room is understandably tense. I stare out at the observation ports at the nine ships hovering menacingly in orbit. Arms clasped behind my back, I muse rhetorically, "Who are these beings, and why do they want Voyager?"

"Or to be more precise, how do they know about Voyager?" asks Tuvok, raising one eyebrow.

"I can only see one possibility," says B'Elanna heavily. "Irej and Nayr."

I turn and glance sharply at her. "You think it's them?"

"Who else could it be? They're the only ones other than the members of this crew who know about her existence." Her countenance grows strained, drawn. "They asked about everything on this ship, and I answered every question in painstaking detail."

I sigh. "Now is no time to start pointing fingers, Lieutenant Torres. No one here is to blame." I pace the room slowly, thinking. "What we need to do is address the problem at hand. How do we deal with this threat?"

Voyager faces me pointedly. "I can isolate myself from the computer subroutines," she says. "Then you could give me away to the bad guys."

"You couldn't do that!" Neelix gasps, horrified. "There's no knowing what they'll do to her!"

Seven cocks her head in thought. What she says next is tinged with a shade of reluctance. "I have to concur with Voyager. That would be, indeed, the simplest way out, and it would minimize the risk of loss of lives."

Tuvok nods. "Much as I dislike to portray the role of what you call the 'devil's advocate', I must agree with Seven. That would be the most logical course of action."

"No!" I say sharply. I turn to face my crew. "We have no way of knowing what these terrorists will do to us after we hand Voyager over." I sweep my gaze across the room. "Just as I will not hand any member of my crew over as ransom, neither will I hand over Voyager." I gaze at the girl, sitting tensely in my customary seat. "Over the years, I have come to consider this ship as part of our crew." I gently put my hand on her shoulder, and let more than a little emotion seep into my voice. "She's been our home for more than six years. Voyager's more than a ship… she's family." My voice drops to an impassioned whisper as I finish. Indeed, how could I ever fully express what I feel for my ship? Loyalty; pride; passion; love? None of those words seem to be able to bring out the depth and complexity of the emotions I attach to her. 

Voyager's eyes shine. "Thank you," she says softly, "but there's no other way out."

"There is always another way out," I tell her firmly.

Her brow furrows as she thinks. She takes a deep breath and glances hesitantly at me, distress in her eyes. Briefly I wonder what kind of emotional turmoil she is going through. For someone who has spent all but six and a half years in existence, she seems to be handling the situation pretty well.

"There… might be another way out. If we can conceal our warp trail, mask it, then they can't follow us if we leave the system. We could hide awhile in the plasma storms, then leave."

It is a valid suggestion, but I won't accept it. "There has to be some way other than running." I continue my pacing of the room. "We can't just leave the Esabrats alone with these… hyenas. We've got to find some way to eliminate this threat."

Voyager glances at me, her voice trembling. "Why can't we? If we're gone there's no reason for them to attack the Esabrat. It would just waste their time. Why can't we just leave?"

I glance firmly at Voyager. "Because the Esabrat have been nothing but kind to us, and they deserve a favor from us." I walk back to address her. "We can't let them down."

"Captain," says Kim, with a slight touch of unease, "you're suggesting a direct confrontation."

"Yes," I reply.

"With nine ships. All bigger than we are," remark Paris.

I glare at him. "It can be done. The bigger they come, Mr. Paris."

Voyager seems to be seething with rage. "Why must we fight?" she protests. "I'm tired of fighting! I'm always fighting, and it hurts!"

"Sometimes there is no alternative to violence-" I begin gently, but she interrupts me with a shout.

"Yes there are! You said so yourself!" She jumps out of the seat and glares at me, her voice trembling with hurt and anger. "And I thought you _cared_ about me!"

"I do," I say softly, desperately, trying to reason with her. It pains me to see her like this, but she won't let me continue. It's as if six and a half years of unspent frustrations and fear have come welling up.

"Then why don't you _show_ it? If not for you I wouldn't be fighting every other day! I wouldn't even be stranded here… You care more about other people… _strangers_… more than you care about your own ship! I haven't been to a decent starbase for as long as I can remember… and I'm _always_ in battle!" Her face red, she thrusts an arm out at me. "Look at what you've _done_ to me!" And for the first time, I notice that her skin is criss-crossed with scars of various shapes, sizes and age. 

She storms out of the room, brushing past me hard. I take a few breaths, my blood pounding, and sink into my chair. I place my head in my hands and try to calm down, but a torrent of violent emotions tears through my mind, and I can't focus.

"Captain?" Chakotay whispers my name softly.

I risk a glance up to look at Chakotay's face, still pale and tired from the effects of the hangover. Everyone is looking at me in undisguised concern. "I'm… I'll be fine," I say, my voice cracking. I stand up again and lean against the table with trembling hands. "I'll adjourn the meeting till later. Dismissed."

Nobody moves, except Chakotay. He comes around towards me and places his arm around my shoulders. "It's alright, Kathryn," he says softly, "I don't think she meant it. She was just throwing a tantrum." He grips my shoulder, hard. "You've been a wonderful captain for all of us, and nobody doubts that. You've taken us so far, and we're still all right. I know we'll make it."

I look away, staring down at the carpet. "I thought it was hard on the crew when I stranded the ship in this quadrant… but I didn't realize that it would be hardest on the ship…" I feel bitter, angry once again. Angry at the universe for leaving me here, with all the decisions I have to make; that I _don't want_ to make. I haven't felt this anger for a long time now, not since I came to accept my fate in the Delta Quadrant in good stride. It's times like this that I really feel like crying.

"No," says Chakotay, as if he could read my thoughts. "If this quadrant has been hard on anyone, it's _you_, Kathryn." He pauses. "You've got so many inner demons of your own, but you've got to suppress them, to present a brave face to your crew. All these years of responsibility, decisions and loss… you had to bear them all silently." He holds me tighter. "But it's alright to cry once in a while. You've wanted to cry for so long now. You can cry, Kathryn. Let it all out." 

I don't know what to say. I feel terrible. So I do as he says. I clutch him tightly, and cry.

It feels good. Along with the flood come accumulated years of pent-up frustrations, worries, setbacks and anger. Chakotay is right. So many inner demons bottled up inside one small woman. Too many demons.

I heard his voice as if from a distance. "You're all dismissed." He's trying to protect me, trying not to let all the crew see me like this. But I don't really care. Maybe it's all for the better. The crew need to learn- need to know- that their captain, too, is human.

Gradually my sobs subside, leaving me feeling somewhat light and hollow. I extricate myself gently from Chakotay's grasp. The expurgation seems to have changed something about the ship; it looks brighter, clearer somehow. Unclouded by years of the real world.

The briefing room is empty except for the two of us. I have no idea how long we've been here, but it seemed like forever. It seems impossible that mere hours ago I was on the surface of Tri'hsder, enjoying myself in a state of blissful ignorance. It seems like another life.

I smile wanly at Chakotay. "Thank you," I say softly.

His responding smile is crooked. "I'll always be here if you need me."

I nod, smiling slightly more bravely now. "Then I should thank my lucky stars that I've got such a good shoulder to cry on." I reach over and squeeze his hand. Gazing at him, I find a spark of mutual understanding in his eyes.

I sit in the holodeck, carefully sorting my thoughts out. I don't feel angry anymore; instead I feel sorry. And sad. I'm not even monitoring my activities anymore. I want to cut myself off from the rest of the world, if only for a while.

I've activated the Leonardo DaVinci program that Kathryn likes so much. Just thinking of her makes me feel guilty. So I sit here and try not to think of anyone. It's very difficult. I'm making something out of clay to help me focus my attentions elsewhere.

But it's still very hard.

I finish the clay sculpture and pit it aside. It isn't helping. Uneasily I glance towards the door, wondering if I should go out and look for Kathryn.

The door slides open and Kathryn is standing there. I look away. 

She comes in and sits beside me. I have to look at her. Her face is red and puffy, like she's been crying a lot. I feel guilty. She says hi. I say nothing.

You're right, she says heavily at last. Maybe there is another way. I'm going down planetside to speak with Nartleb Trebor, and see if I can find out more about Ennaxor Noswad. To see if we can work something out.

I look at the floor and say nothing.

She puts her hand on my shoulder gently. Voyager, she says softly, I'm sorry about… everything. Maybe you have a point. Sometimes I make the wrong decisions. She grips my shoulder hard, desperately. Please forgive me, she says softly. I'm only human.

I say nothing, but I pick up the clay flower I've been working on and give it to her.

She takes it. Is it for me? she asks.

I nod silently.

She cradles it gently in her hand. It's beautiful, she says softly.

She puts the flower down and gives me a short hug. I'm going down to the planet now, she says. Take care. Then she picks the flower up and leaves.

I watch as the doors slide close behind her back. Then I say, you too.

I head down to the transporter room with Tuvok. Crewman Chell, the Bolian security officer, will accompany me to the surface. As I walk I feel Tuvok's gaze on me. Finally I hold my hand up and stop. "What is it, Tuvok?"

He faces me squarely. "Captain, with all due respect, I do not feel that you are… emotionally fit to conduct these negotiations. You should be resting."

I smile at him. "Tuvok, I appreciate your concern, but I'm alright. Besides," I add, "I owe Voyager this much. At least."

Tuvok nods. He understands. For that I am glad. I resume the pace, mentally reviewing all that I have to discuss with Nartleb Trebor. I am in dress uniform, which always bothers me a little because it's so cumbersome. I couldn't run very far in this uniform if I wanted to.

Chakotay and Chell are already in the transporter room, waiting for me. Chakotay smiles when he sees me. He hands me a padd. "Here is the agreed agenda of the meeting," he says. I nod and accept the padd, stepping onto the transporter platform with Chell. The blue-skinned crewman seems to be restless with some kind of nervous energy. I cannot blame him; we are beaming down to a planet that is just as good as interdicted, with nine gargantuan vessels orbiting overhead to wipe us off its surface as soon as we make a wrong move.

"Ambassador Nartleb has provided us coordinates to beam to," he tells me. "It's a brief walk to the planetary embassy, about five hundred meters." He keeps up the banter to distract me from my anxieties as he keys in the coordinates and prepares for beamdown. "Communications will be limited to a single encrypted channel in the event that the terrorists are monitoring planetbound frequencies."

I make a sound of acknowledgement as Chakotay hits the Energize button. As the walls of the Voyager fade away, I hear his voice, saying, "Good luck, Captain…"

I materialize in the middle of Tri'hsder's famed Istana Park. To my surprise, Ambassador Nartleb is there, waiting for us, with an entire diplomatic corps with him. He bows deeply in Esabrat fashion. "Captain Janeway. I am honored by your presence yet again."

I smile graciously as diplomacy dictates. "As am I."

He gestures in the direction of the embassy. "Shall we proceed?" I nod.

Our whole contingent moves towards the embassy in a brisk, almost urgent pace. I note their general disregard for formality, a marked change from our last encounter. War does ugly things to people.

Nartleb slows his pace to walk by me. He leans close to talk, dropping his voice to a mere whisper. "I'm sorry we have to meet in these conditions again. You see, these attackers…. They're fairly legendary in their right. They're comprised of renegades, people who disagree with our peaceful way of life. We had a brief war with them years ago, and overcame them by sheer numbers. They fled to the _aachi moridoka_, and they've been hiding there ever since. Off and on they've caused a few problems, and occasionally we've had a few... unpleasant encounters. But nothing of this scale."

"It seems that the appearance of the Voyager has sparked this confrontation."

"I would say so." Nartleb looks troubled. "They're desperate for new technology, Captain Janeway. Theirs is outmoded and inadequate, and they might not survive long without acquiring new ones. And if I know them, they're willing to try anything when they're desperate."

"What are you trying to say?" I ask him, not liking the portentous tone of his voice.

He frowns, clearly upset. "What I'm saying, Captain Janeway, is that we should proceed with the utmost caution."

"A wise piece of advice, no doubt," I mutter darkly.

It's been quite a while since Kathryn beamed down to the planet. I wander the decks, rapidly checking on the progress of the repairs on the hull breach. The burn on my arm is healing nicely. Some crewmembers nod at me in recognition as I pass them in the corridors.

Someone is following me. I track the person with the internal sensors, and decide that it is Naomi Wildman, the only other person here who's younger than I am. I pause and turn back. She quickly shrinks and hides in a doorjamb, which doesn't help much, because the doors open and she stumbles inside. I hold the doors open and approach the door.

Naomi looks at me with interest. I look back, and we say nothing for a while.

Finally she speaks. You're the ship, she says.

I nod. I'm Voyager. And you're Naomi Wildman.

She grins. Seven told me about you.

I know.

What's it like, being the ship and everything?

I shrug. I don't know, I say. Weird, mostly.

She frowns. How weird?

I don't know how to explain everything to her. It's like… I know everything about me. And everything that goes on around me. I shrug again. I don't know what being human is like either. Why don't you tell me?

Naomi thinks. Weird too, I guess. Like… she pauses to think more. You have to learn stuff and everything. You don't just know it. And you can get hurt, and you make mistakes all the time. One corner of her mouth quirks up. It's awful, actually.

I get hurt too, and I make mistakes, I point out. And I have to learn some stuff too.

Naomi smiles. Then I guess we're not that different after all.

I was going to the mess hall, I say. Want to come?

Naomi nods, and she takes my hand. Together we go to the mess hall.

Most of the bridge crew are seated at one table when we get to the mess hall. B'Elanna sees us coming, and waves us over. There is a gap between Seven and B'Elanna, and that's where Naomi and I sit. Naomi Wildman, Voyager, says Seven in greeting.

They are all looking at me in concern. How are you feeling? asks Chakotay.

Okay, I tell him. I'm not upset anymore. I raise my arm to show B'Elanna. See, the burn's nearly gone. I bet it won't even leave a scar.

She smiles and pats my arm, but she has more to say. I hope you didn't mean whatever you said to the captain in the briefing room, she tells me.

You hurt her, says Tom. A lot.

I clamp my lips into a thin line, not knowing what to say.

She works very hard to keep the ship- you- in one piece, says Harry. She'll give up anything- even her own life, if it means it can save you.

I know, I say slowly.

B'Elanna gives me a sympathizing look. Nobody blames you for what you did, Voyager, she says. Everyone gets angry at times. But… she winces a little, like she remembers something she doesn't want to, …you must learn how to express that anger in as nice a way as possible.

Seven nods. I concur, she says. When dealing with humans, a great deal of tact is sometimes required.

Naomi looks confused. What are you talking about? She asks. What happened?

I got angry in the briefing room and yelled Kathryn in front of everyone else, I tell her. Her eyes widen.

And she's run away? Is that why she's not here?

Chakotay laughs briefly. The captain doesn't run away from things, Naomi. She's gone down to the planet to talk to the Ambassador.

So we can solve the problem! Naomi says brightly.

Hopefully, yes, mumbles Harry.

I feel troubled once again. Okay, I finally say, I _am_ sorry for throwing a tantrum. I'll apologize to Kathryn when she comes back, okay?

Smiles break out across the table. B'Elanna pats me on the back. That's the spirit! She says.

Chakotay's commbadge beeps. Before he answers it, I suddenly know what happened. Tuvok is on the bridge. He's hailing Chakotay. And we're receiving a transmission from the planet- from the away team, probably. I tense, and Naomi gives me an odd look.

Chakotay taps his commbadge. Chakotay here.

Commander, you are required on the bridge at once. Something's happened to the captain. 

The negotiations take much longer than planned. I've been in the embassy for a full hour, yet all we've established so far are the identities of the attackers and the nature of their attacks. The negotiations take place in a high domed room, with numerous windows opening out to the splendor of the lakes below. All the delegates and myself are seated around a large circular bronze table in the middle of the room. I try to rush the talks, try to get more information from the Esabrat delegation. But the stress of the past few hours are showing, and they are agitated and distracted. The Esabrats are a peaceful people, and the prospect of war rattles them.

"I simply see no alternative to submitting to their demands," says Toorf, one of the jumpier delegates. "Everything else is going to lead to bloodshed."

"What, and let them get their hands on Voyager's technology? Who knows what they'll do after that!" exclaims Ekez, another delegate, slapping his hand on the table in emphasis.

"Gentlemen," I say, standing up to catch their attention. The table hushes as the delegates listen. "Ekez has a point. Conceding to their demands wouldn't solve anything; it'd just aggravate the matter. Besides, like it or not, I'm _not_ giving up my ship to them in any form."

"Then what do you propose?" asks Larimda Bas, the vice-head of planetary affairs. "That you and your ship just leave?"

Ekez catches on the point at once. "Yes! Then the renegades would have no reason for any aggression."

Yihk'nn R'mt, one of the younger delegates, nods in agreement. "Your ship would surely be no match for theirs in terms of speed."

I shake my head firmly. "I don't like running from things, Yihk'nn," I tell him, "or else I wouldn't be here. I want to help you eliminate this threat, once and for all."

Toorf frowns. "How very noble."

Nartleb spreads his hands outwards in a gesture of gratitude. "We appreciate your kind gesture, Captain Janeway, but there is really no need for you to risk your ship for us. You should take your ship and leave while you still can."

"You've done a lot for our ship," I tell him. "We owe you this much."

"There is… another possibility," says Neeuq Grob, the only female in the whole delegation. "Irej did mention that your ship is highly adapted to traverse plasma storms. You could… draw them into the plasma storms and destroy them."

Yihk'nn gives Neeuq and incredulous glance. "Even with maximum modifications, the level of radiation inside those storms are going to destroy the ship's superstructure, if it doesn't kill them first!"

"Even so, the Voyager would have a marked advantage over the renegade ships," argues Neeuq.

"So, Irej and Nayr are on our side, it seems," mutters Chell.

Ekez shrugs. "Irej reported back after he'd finished on your ship, but Nayr disappeared."

I am about to comment when a member of the Esabrat security dashes into the room. She points to me. "Get her out of here, now!"

"What is it, Alemap?" asks Nartleb in alarm.

"Intruders! Evacuate- **now**!"

Chell immediately jumps to his feet, unhitching a compression phaser rifle from his hazard suit. He stands alert, ready to protect me.

Nartleb seizes my hand. "Come this way with me, Captain Janeway! They won't find us." He leads me to one of the walls, and touches a specific spot on it. A doorway shimmers open- part of the walls are holographic. The rest of the delegation falls behind me, to form some kind of human fort. Chell stays by my side, rifle ready. "We'll go someplace safe- the underground caverns, perhaps." 

He leads me through a courtyard down a wide paved pathway, shaded by the sun. Security sensors blink red from every pillar. Sounds of shots erupt from behind.

Renegades dressed in black burst from the holographic doorway, rifles blazing. Immediately Chell jumps behind me and covers me as he fires back. The delegation, too, has pulled small hand weapons, but they are obviously unaccustomed to using them.

Nartleb turns- and freezes in horror. "Behind you, Captain Janeway!" He shouts.

I turn, drawing my hand phaser, but it is too late. A renegade has his own weapon trained on me, and he fires. I feel something sting my neck, and a burning sensation spreads from it. The world begins to fade into blackness around me._ So this is death_, I think. It feels strangely peaceful, like floating. _I tried my best, Voyager. I am so sorry._

Then, nothingness.

****


	4. Chapter 4

****

Sweet Dreams, _Voyager _(Part 4)

A _Voyager _fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

The crew quickly take their places on the bridge. Chell is hailing us from the planet. He is frantic. I can't exactly make out what he's saying, but I think I understand: the captain has been kidnapped.

Chell can't stop apologizing. He blames himself for not protecting the captain enough.

You did all you possibly could, says Chakotay. Beam back to the Voyager. 

He cuts the transmission and rubs his forehead. What was I thinking, he says, sending only one crewman to accompany her!

I feel like I can't breathe. Kathryn has been taken by the enemy. I try to steady my trembling hands on the railing between the command and upper platforms, but it doesn't help much. I'm afraid that they'll do something awful to her- kill her even.

B'Elanna is attending to the banks of consoles behind Seven. She glances at me, her face tight. Relax, she says, not sounding very convincing. We'll get her back.

I'm receiving a hail from the lead ship, says Seven.

Put it onscreen, says Chakotay.

We see Ennaxor Noswad's face for the first time. He's got a narrow face, cruelly sharp cheekbones and angry red eyes. He sneers at Chakotay. I duck behind Seven's console, trying not to get seen. But I'm still aware of every single pixel being displayed on that screen. 

So, this is the vaunted ship, Voyager, he says.

I am Commander Chakotay. What do you want?

Noswad laughs, a high-pitched, ugly sound. Oh, you know very well what I want, Commander. What interests me is what _you_ want. He leers, and gestures to someone offscreen. Bring her here.

One of his aides step into transmission range, and I stifle an outcry with my wrist. He's carrying the limp form of Kathryn in his arms. Noswad grabs her roughly by her hair, and turns back to Chakotay. Your captain's quite an amazing woman, isn't she?

Chakotay grits his teeth. Now you're calling ransom, he says bitterly.

Noswad pulls out a sharp knife and flashes it at Kathryn's throat. No! I want to shout, but Seven silently clamps her hand down on my shoulder. He mustn't see me.

He presses the blade down firmly on her flesh, cutting the skin and drawing a trickle of blood. Seven's grip on my shoulder tightens. I grasp her hand tightly, nervously. Noswad chuckles, a deep sound coming from his belly. You have five hours, Commander. If not… he flips the knife and makes a swift slicing gesture.

Chakotay tenses.

Noswad keeps the knife. He then raises Kathryn to his lips and kisses her. I'd hate to mar this lovely body of hers, Chakotay. He grins fiercely, hungrily. Five hours, Commander.

The transmission cuts.

Seven releases her grip on me. I sink to the floor, trembling. Even the crew can feel the vibrations on the hull. Not knowing what else to do, I bury my head in my hands and cry. The light levels drop and my engines whine in stress, but there isn't anything I can do about it.

Somebody picks me up. Chakotay. Everyone on the bridge looks at me. I cling tightly to his neck. He soothes me, saying hush, everything will be all right, like he's talking to his own daughter.

But he doesn't know that everything's going to be okay. He's frightened too. Frightened for Kathryn, frightened for me. I hate myself. If I'd remained in hiding, we wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place. I brought us here.

They're going to kill her, aren't they? I ask Chakotay. 

His voice is soft but strong. No, not if there's anything we can do about it. He gestures everyone into the briefing room. But first, I'm going to have to call some people up here.

I awaken, feeling stiffness everywhere. I am in some sort of cell, tied to a crude wooden chair. A yellow forcefield flickers across the wide doorway, and someone stands guard outside. I can't see who it is. I try to move my arms and my legs, but everything is tied fast. Someone's taken off my dress uniform, leaving only the inner tank top layer- and no commbadge.

My head aches. I moan.

The guard comes over to the forcefield. It's Nayr. I seethe, knowing that B'Elanna put a lot of faith in him. He sneers. "Awake, are you?"

I merely glare at him.

"I'll fetch the Ennaxor." He grins wolfishly and walks away. I assess the situation. Here I am, being held captive by the renegades. Doubtlessly they've already made some sort of ransom demand towards Voyager. I think. If Voyager does not meet that demand, Noswad will kill me. But if they do, there is no telling that they will keep up their end of the deal. It seems a no-win situation, and the only way out is for the ship to leave the system, as fast as possible.

But knowing Chakotay, that'd probably be the last thing that he does.

Somehow, I am convinced, they'll think of a way to get us all out of here. There is a way. There has to be. There is always a way. Wasn't that something James Kirk said when he beat the infamous _Kobayashi Maru_ simulation? Or was it someone else?

At any rate it is inconsequential. Somehow or the other my first officer will pull a miracle out of his hat, rescue me, and eliminate this threat at the same time.

A voice in the back of my head mutters, _Just who do you think you're kidding, lady?_

The forcefield flickers off. A dark silhouette is framed in the doorway. For one delirious moment, I imagine he is Chakotay and all my wildest prayers have been answered. Then he steps into the light, and my heart sinks. It is Ennaxor Noswad, his face stretched into a hungry leer. He approaches me and I try to recoil from him. He places his hand under my chin and lifts it upwards, and appraises me like ware from one of the streetside markets in Tri'hsder. "Welcome aboard the _Trinity_, Captain Janeway," he says, sounding insufferably pleased with himself. "You're quite a specimen, aren't you." His eyes sweep downwards and I can practically feel him undressing me with his eyes. He leans forwards, eyes glinting hungrily. "We don't have many women on our ships. All of them are too pacifist. But you, you're a fighter, Captain Janeway. I like that."

"Don't touch me," I snarl.

"Ooh, fierce." In complete disregard of my words, he grabs one strap of my shirt and pulls himself close. I try to recoil. Up close, his face reminds me of a devil's. One of the ropes binding my legs to my chair is loose. I wriggle my feet, trying to pull free of the ropes. It works, freeing my legs, even though my feet are still tied together.

Noswad seizes me and kisses me, hard. I ignore him as best as I can, and focus on my legs. At just the right moment, I shove them upward fiercely, slamming my knees into his solar plexus hard. He gasps and staggers away from me, the color leaving his face.

What happens next is so fast I don't see it coming. An explosion of pain rips across the left half of my face as something collides, hard, with my cheek, snapping my head to the side with such violence I feel the muscles in my neck pull. Gritting my teeth, I silence my outcry, and instead turn slowly to face Noswad. My cheek throbs painfully. He's fractured the bone. Noswad grins with some satisfaction, his hand balled into a fist. "Leave us," he sternly instructs Nayr. 

With abrupt suddenness, the chair under me disappears. A hologram. I flail as I fall backwards. Noswad moves closer to me. I stand up, feeling a sense of finality. Perhaps its all for the best that I die here, so that Voyager will leave and not do anything foolish to save me. And I'm not going to die without a fight. I tense, battle ready. Noswad and I circle each other like a pair of jungle cats, eyeing each other warily. He sneers.

I take the chance. I swing my leg up and impart him a swift blow to his head with my boot. He staggers, stunned. Another kick and I sweep him off his feet. Before he get to his feet, I straddle him, hand raised, and drive my fist into the left side of my face in anger. The retaliation feels good.

Noswad doesn't even flinch. "I like this position," he whispers, and before I can do anything, he grabs my neck in some variant of the Vulcan nerve pinch. I am immobilized, and even as my mind screams commands to my arms and legs, I can't do anything. But I can still talk. I snarl an acid invective at him, and his grins lopsidedly.

"You know, I'm beginning to like you, Captain Janeway. Perhaps I will keep you after all this is over, after all." He smiles wickedly, a dark light flashing in his eyes. "But first, let's see what you can do." He shoves me roughly to the wall, and I can't do anything but comply.

I begin to scream.

I sit tensely in the briefing room, entwining my fingers together. Irej, Chell and Nartleb have joined us, as well as Naomi. I invited her, so that I can have someone to hold my hand. Naomi looks worried. Everyone does.

Nartleb shows us video footage from the kidnapping, while Chell keeps up a nervous running commentary. The renegades rush into the scene, creating a diversion while the single masked man darts Kathryn and beams out. Then all the rest do. It is a clever ploy.

As I told your captain, it would be best if your ship leaves now before the situation aggravates further, says Nartleb. 

And leave her here, with these beasts, says Chakotay angrily.

Unacceptable, says Seven emphatically.

Maybe it's going to take a while for it to sink into your thick brain, says B'Elanna testily, but we just don't abandon crewmembers.

She'd do the same for us, Harry adds.

Nartleb sighs. Maybe it's going to take a while for this to sink in for you, but your captain is as good as dead. The renegades will keep her, even after they get the girl from you.

Chakotay stares straight at Nartleb. Maybe it's going to take a while for _this_ to sink in, but I'm not intending to let them do either of those things.

Nartleb gives him a skeptical look. And just what is your plan to rescue her?

Chakotay glares at him, but says nothing. The silence speaks loudly for itself: We don't have a plan for saving her.

I twist my fingers together as Naomi grips my wrist, frightened. I think frantically, _there's always a way. Always an alternative._ Kathryn said that.

Um… sir? Says Irej timidly, raising his hand slightly. If I may, there is one possibility. The renegade ships are old and they don't have much shielding against the harshest of the plasma storms in the _aachi moridoka_. If you could bait them and draw them inside, the radiation might destroy them.

B'Elanna starts to protest, and I know what she's going to say. The sensors show that there's too much radiation inside of the storm for even a ship of my design to take.

The Suhtoma radiation in the interior of the storms is enough to overload the bioneural circuitry, says B'Elanna. The ship's exterior would be undamaged, but what about Voyager? We don't know what it'll do to her.

I'm ready to take the risk, I tell her strongly. We've got to get her out of there.

There must be some other way, says Tom in exasperation.

There isn't any easier way, I tell him.

Tuvok frowns. I must admit that the ship is right. Of all the methods we've suggested so far, this is the one with the least risk.

Even so, says Neelix, how in the world are we going to bait the renegades into the plasma storm without inciting them to kill the captain?

We'll think of something, says Chakotay bluntly. The real problem is, how are we going to get her out of there?

Easy, I say, seeing the solution at once, piecing information from various sources. We can send someone in there first to put a transponder nanite into Kathryn. Then when the ship enters the plasma storm, their shields will weaken. We disable them, beam Kathryn over, and run.

And within five hours everyone on the renegade ship will be dead! Says Nartleb in delight. What an excellent plan!

I want to go on that ship, I say firmly.

Too risky, says Chakotay. Someone- maybe Nayr- will recognize you.

I fold my arms and set my jaw. I'm going, no matter what you say.

No, and that's final, says Chakotay in rebuff. I won't let you put yourself in danger.

I stand up and walk over to Chakotay. She'd do the same for me, I tell him firmly. It's my fault that she's in there in the first place, and I want to get her out. I give him a beseeching look. Please? I ask.

Chakotay sighs. Even so, how are we going to get you onboard the ship?

I sneak in.

How?

Naomi raises her hand. Commander? I think I have an idea.

I don't know how long I've been in here. Time is relative, and it seems like infinity. I curl up on the cold floor of my cell and try to sleep. I hurt everywhere- my head, my back, my legs, between my legs, my neck… The throbbing in my cheek has grown almost unbearable. Noswad enjoys aggravating it very much, and I hate to think of the kind of fractures it has sustained.

I can't sleep. Softly I sing a lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I was little, a traditional song called The Prayer. The sweet melody brings back memories of my childhood on Earth. 

"Let this be our prayer; just like every child… needs to find a place; guide us with your grace, give us faith so we'll be safe." I repeat the refrain over and over again, drawing comfort from it, using it to shut out the pain.

I hear footsteps and voices. I recognize Noswad's voice, and flinch inwardly. I've been here less than a day, but already I have come to dread that deep basso profundo voice, the rough caresses of his hands… I begin to sing again, more agitatedly this time. I will not allow Noswad to rule me by fear.

The forcefield's hum is disrupted. Someone has come into my cell, confirming my worst fears. I look up to glare at Noswad-

-and my heart leaps as I see who is standing beside him. Naomi Wildman, carrying a wicker basket. But why her?

Noswad's lips curl. "Your _daughter_ is here to see you," he says. His face seems suffused with anger at himself for displaying such weakness by letting her in. "To see her last, no doubt." He stares intensely at Naomi, who doesn't flinch. "You have ten minutes, no more, no less!" Then he storms out. The forcefield flickers into place behind him.

I sit up and gaze at Naomi in confusion. _Daughter?_ I don't get it. But the moment Noswad is gone, her brave façade crumbles, and she rushes over to me, flinging her arms around my neck. When she pulls away, it's Voyager's tear-stained face that I see, not Naomi's. All she'd done was to alter her image so she wouldn't be recognized.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, hugging me fiercely. "Everything I said about you was _wrong_, and now you're in here and it's all my fault."

I pat her back, trying to soothe her. "It's not your fault, dear, it really isn't. And everything's going to be all right."

She nods, taking deep breaths, trying to get her emotions under control.

"How did you get here? What's happening on board the ship?" I ask her.

"I came on the Delta Flyer," she says. "The ship is preparing now." She leans forward and whispers in a conspiring manner, "We've got a plan to get you out of here."

"Tell me about it," I say.

Voyager nods, then her eyes widen as she glances at my cheek. She puts her hand out gently to touch it. "You're hurt." She turns to the basket and pulls out a medikit, probably taken from the Flyer. She picks up the med tricorder and runs it over me. Her jaw tenses as she studies the readout, then she says in a trembling voice, "They _hurt_ you," in a tone that tells me that she knows precisely what's been going on in this cell. Her hand quivers, and she grips the tricorder with enough force to leave indents in the surface. 

I gently brush the tear trickling down her cheek with my hand. "I'll be fine, Voyager."

She removes a hypo from the medikit and places it against my neck. She leans close to administer the shot, and whispers in my ear, "There are transponder nanites in here. We're going to use them to beam you out."

I frown. "How are you going to get past their shields?"

"I'm not. We're baiting them into a severe plasma storm within the _aachi moridoka_, then we'll fight. This will disrupt their shields, then we'll beam you out and go. Their ships aren't designed to withstand the Suhtoma radiation, so they'll either blow up, or their crew will die from the exposure. Except you, because I've just given you an inoculation against it."

It doesn't sound like a foolproof method to me. "If the level of Suhtoma radiation is so high, they won't follow you into the plasma storms."

"They can't tell how bad the radiation is, and they don't know what effects the radiation has. They need the technology, and they'll do anything to get it." 

__

Even kill me, I think bitterly. But there's something else Voyager isn't telling me. "You're not telling me something, Voyager. I can tell." 

She glances at the floor for a moment, biting her lip. Then she looks up. "B'Elanna says that the level of radiation may be too high even for my bioneural circuitry to withstand." She fidgets a little. "She thinks that I may get hurt."

"Hurt? How so?" I ask, genuine concern rising for her.

"She thinks that I may be… killed," the girl says slowly. "But no harm will be done to the ship's   
structure and function."

"No," I say firmly. "It's too risky, then. Don't do it."

When she next speaks, her voice is soft and sad, but it holds a layer of steel beneath. "The ship and the crew need you, Kathryn. They can't function without the captain. But they don't need me. They didn't even know I existed until two days ago."

"I won't let a member of my crew die like this," I tell her, refusing to sacrifice this sweet young child just to save myself. 

"You'd do the same for me," whispers Voyager. "You'd willingly die for your ship. If I were ever to die, you'd be the only one who'd be willing to go down with me."

"It's my duty as a captain-" I begin to say, but she interrupts me.

"Not every captain today would do it," she argues. "But you would." Her eyes shine brightly with tears and she hugs me fiercely. "You're the closest thing to a mother I've ever had."

I, too, blink back tears as I hug her. "And you've become like a daughter to me."

"Maybe it won't be so bad," she says. "Maybe I'll still be around. But…" her voice breaks. "I think it's best that I wait till we return to the Alpha Quadrant before I come out again. I still have so much to learn, and I don't want to risk any of my crew's lives again."

I suddenly realize that she hasn't just come to tell me of the plan, she's come to say goodbye. My heart aches. "I barely got to know you," I tell her, taking her hand.

"There'll always be time," she says softly. Then she straightens up. "I just wanted you to know- that you were right for doing what you did… everything you did. You got us all the way here in one piece. And I've seen more of the galaxy than I ever would have in the Alpha Quadrant. And now you'll get us all the way home."

I smile lopsidedly at her. "I'll miss you," I say.

She smiles back. "Me too." She breaks her embrace as she stands up, reluctantly. Noswad is at the doorway. Her features morph back into those of Naomi's. "Goodbye, Kathryn."

The forcefield flickers off, and she heads towards it, looking over her shoulder all the time. "Goodbye," I say softly, as the field snaps back on. Then I curl back on the floor and try to bury my misery.

****


	5. Chapter 5

****

Sweet Dreams, _Voyager _(Part 5)

A _Voyager _fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS) 

  


It is approaching five hours since the men have taken Kathryn. Everyone is jumpy and nervous. We don't know if our plan is going to work, but I am hoping so. The dim red alert lighting on the bridge makes everything seem scarier. I turn the lighting up, just a little bit.

At precisely four hours forty-five minutes after Kathryn has been taken, Chakotay hails the Trinity. Noswad answers, his face stretched into an expectant grin.

Well, he says, have you got her?

We're having a little difficulty with that, says Chakotay. She refuses to go.

Do I care? If she isn't over here in fifteen minutes, your captain is dead.

I need your help to distract her. Fire at her, something, so we can transfer her program over into a storage buffer.

Fire at her? Engage her in battle?

She'll fire back, but there're nine of you and only one of her. We'll get her soon enough.

How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?

Please, listen. We desperately want our captain back as much as you want this girl. If we work together, we could both get what we want more easily.

You'd better be sure. Bring her here, he tells someone offscreen. Then he faces Chakotay. Any hanky panky of any sort and she dies immediately.

Understood, says Chakotay.

Noswad holds up a hypo. I have five milligrams of an extremely powerful acetylcholinesterase inhibitor in here. It causes total failure of nervous function. Death is almost instantaneous.

I quickly run through a list of such possible inhibitors and find that they can all be disabled by a dose of tripropylflouroethene. I feed the information to the Doctor in Sickbay so he can get all prepped for an emergency.

That's all I need to disable your captain, says Noswad.

You won't need to use it. Everything here is under control.

I recognize my cue at once. Without warning, I turn so fast that inertia dampers can't compensate, tossing everyone to a side, for dramatic effect.

What the-? Report! Chakotay exclaims.

The ship is headed for the plasma storms! Helm is not responding! Paris shouts.

What's going on over there? Noswad demands. He turns to the back. Where is she? He shouts.

Voyager is running, says Chakotay, as I dart behind Seven's console. I need your help to get her captured!

Noswad nods. Very well.

The nine ships break formation to pursue me. Accelerating to full impulse, I speed for the glowing orange rivers of ionized gas that are the _aachi moridoka._ Behind me the nine ships weave and bob, firing.

The battle is joined at ten minutes to five hours.

I am awakened by a shift in the ship's rumbling. The ship is moving. I sit up and see that Nayr is approaching my cell. The forcefield snaps off and he gestures to me with the large rifle he is holding. "Get out."

I rise stiffly to my feet and step out of the cell. Nayr shoves me forward in the small of my back with the rifle. I stumble slightly but make no other response. 

Nayr guides me to the bridge of the ship. Like the rest of the ship, it is a slipshod affair, damp and dimly lit by yellow glow-lamps arrayed along the floor and the ceilings. Out-dated consoles with manual turn-dials and push buttons circle the bridge. The floor is dark burnished metal that creaks as we walk across it. Noswad stands on the raised center platform, presumably the command platform, barking orders to a dozen or so other crewmembers scattered around the bridge. The view on the central viewscreen is split into two: one half shows Voyager's bridge, the other shows Voyager fleeing into the heart of a plasma rivaling anything I've ever seen in the Badlands._ She's going to do it_, I think, my heart sinking.

Chakotay's eyes widen slightly as I step up onto the central platform. "Kathryn…?"

__

Do I really look that awful? I think. Noswad seizes me roughly by the arm and pulls me beside him. He jams something cold and metal to the side of my neck. "Listen, you stupid girl," he growls at the viewscreen, "if you don't stop running, she dies!"

I tense, but I make no change in posture. If I'm going to die, I intend to so with a measure of dignity, standing proud and tall. I will not allow thugs to intimidate me.

Chakotay grits his teeth. "I'm afraid pointless death threats aren't going to help much. You're just making her more agitated."

"They may be death threats, but they certainly aren't pointless." He tightens his stranglehold on me. "I mean it, you hear me!"

Voyager fires a fierce volley of phaser bolts in return. The ship shudders under the barrage. Noswad sways in the resulting imbalance, but remains standing. When he next speaks his voice smolders with unrestrained anger. "Target their warp nacelles and fire!" 

I wonder what he is doing, announcing his strategy to the enemy over an open commlink. Or maybe his anger has rendered him unable to accommodate any logic or common sense. Either way, Voyager is fully prepared for the retailiating strike. She dives gracefully downwards with a dexterity that I suspect is more than just Paris' piloting skills.

Noswad snarls in anger.

Voyager is taking us into the heart of a violent plasma storm. Arcs of actinic orange energy coruscate around the ships, their bright fingers brushing against the hull as if to suck the life out of it. I can almost hear the crackling and spitting. 

One of Noswad's sub-lieutenants reports nervously. "Sir, the aachi moridoka are draining our energy reserves. Soon the shields will fail and expose us to lethal amounts of radiation!"

Noswad seethes. "Voyager, I am losing my patience. I don't have time for your silly games of hide and seek. I demand that you hand yourself over at once!"

There is no mistaking the core of duranium under his words. He means business this time, and time is something we're rapidly running out of. My eyes dart around, trying to find something which will help as a diversion. Noswad has my hand phaser clipped to his belt. If I could seize it, there would be a high chance that it'd distract Noswad for some time-enough for Voyager to get past their shields and beam me out- and get away before anything undue happens to her. I hope.

My head hurts. It feels like there are thousands of exploding stars in my mind. The plasma storm attacks my bioneural circuitry with a vengeance, and I can hardly focus on controlling myself. For now I leave the piloting mostly to Tom and almost everything to everyone else. Except monitoring the renegade ship's shields. They are weakening very fast. I think I will be ready to beam Kathryn out within the minute, which is good, because I don't think I can't hold on out here much longer. 

Noswad is very angry. His ship's shields are draining and he has even less time than we do. This isn't good. I fear that he'll do something rash before that happens.

Voyager, he shouts angrily, I am losing my patience. I don't have time for your silly games of hide and seek. I demand that you hand yourself over at once!

He means it. I have to stop him, somehow. So I do the only thing that I can: I jump out from my hiding place behind Seven's bank of consoles. Glaring defiantly, I march up to face Noswad.

Noswad blinks in surprise.

Why should I? I demand of him. You're nothing but a big, mean _bully_ and you're picking on me only because I'm smaller than you! I can't stop my barrage of angry words; the pain in my head only fuels the fire. Well, you know what? I think you're a coward. Nothing more than a awful yellow-livered lout and you only have the guts to hurt defenseless people and you _violated_ Kathryn, you-

As quickly as they come my words break to an abrupt halt. A particularly fierce bolt of ionized plasma strikes my starboard nacelle, and blinding pain sears me. I ignore it, burning holes into the viewscreen with my eyes.

Noswad isn't put off by my display of anger. She's on you bridge! He shouts to Chakotay. Do _something_! You can't let her get away.

Chakotay doesn't respond. He stares at Noswad in pure hatred. You bastard, he growls.

Noswad's pupils constrict in anger. His grip tightens on the hypo, and he prepares to administer it-

-and Kathryn jams her elbow hard into his stomach. He gasps in pain and doubles over, and she swiftly kicks him in the head. Noswad keels over.

Thirty seconds to shield failure on the renegade ships.

I feel a perverse sense of satisfaction as Noswad crumples under the impact of my heel._ Here's to sweet justice,_ I think, slamming a boot into his cheek. He staggers to the ground, blood flowing from his nose. In one swift gesture, I seize my phaser from his belt and arm it. 

Some of the crewmen on the bridge have drawn their own hand weapons and point them at me. One fires but misses me. I drop into a barrel roll and fire at the one who tried to shoot me. I have much better aim, and he crumples to the floor.

I sense Noswad's presence behind me and duck. His fist narrowly misses my head, and his momentum drives him forward a little. He staggers.

Something on the bridge overloads as the ships receive a solid pummeling from the plasma storms. Both ships stopped exchanging shots several minutes ago when they realized that the storms were doing all the work for them. The deck has begun shuddering uncontrollably, as if undergoing a seizure.

Someone from the back of the bridge exclaims, "Ten seconds to complete shield failure!"

I begin a mental countdown. Ten… nine… eight…

The bridge is filled with noxious black fumes, smelling strongly of ashes and burning plastic. I cough, and try to peer through the smoke. Seven… six…

Something grabs me roughly by the throat and I feel the cool spray of a hypo at the side of my neck. Belatedly I remember Noswad and his death threat. My vision begins to cloud. Still I countdown. Five… four…

Four is far as I get before I lose consciousness. The world fades into blackness as I crumple to the deck.

I live in a world of pain. B'Elanna was right- the Suhtoma radiation is too much for my bioneural packs to handle. I am dimly aware of the rest of myself, system damages reports, the warp core, the bridge… My focus is all on the shield status of the renegade ship that Kathryn is on. Ten seconds till shutdown… I must hold on for ten seconds.

Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…

Breaks begin appearing in the shields of the ship. I frantically scan and try to search for the nanite probes.

Five… four…

Almost subconsciously I plot a direct course out of the plasma storm once the beamout is complete.

Three… two… one…

Zero.

I lock onto her signal and do an emergency beam-in to Sickbay. My engines engage as the world flares painfully white and fades away. I think fleetingly, we did it, Kathryn, as I resign myself to the inevitable.

The first thing I hear is chirping. It's the birds singing outside my window, I think. Soon Mommy will come to wake me up for breakfast. Toasted bread with eggs and ham, freshly brewed coffee-

"Captain?"

Someone is calling me, tapping on my shoulder. I wrench my eyes open and find myself staring at a face. A man, middle-aged, balding, somehow looking both disgruntled and concerned at the same time. He seems familiar… the memory seeps back slowly to me. I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship _Voyager,_ stranded thirty-five thousand light-years away from breakfasts at home. The console beside me chirps again. I try to sit up slowly. "What happened?" I ask.

"Noswad tried to kill you with an acetylcholinesterase inhibitor," he says. "Fortunately I had an antidote on hand." His face wore that ever-present smug look as he evidently congratulated himself on a job well done.

Chakotay is standing behind him, looking vaguely amused. But his amusement has a touch of something else in it- poignancy, perhaps?

"Commander," I say, interrupting the Doctor as he begins to speak again, "do you have something to tell me?"

The Doctor looks highly affronted at being ignored, but he allows Chakotay to continue.

"We have left the Esabrats system," he says. "Trebor Nartleb left us a message, claiming that 'the people of Esabrats Eno are forever in your debt.'"

"So I assume that the threat of the renegades has been dealt with?"

"Most likely." He hands me a padd. "Damage report."

I skim through the padd, taking in reports of superstructure stresses, minor containment leaks, systems disruptions. But none of it interests me. "What happened to _Voyager_?" I ask.

"_Voyager_ is fine. Repairs should take a few days up to a week, but we are no worse for the wear."

"You know what I'm talking about, Chakotay. What happened to her?"

Chakotay's expression sobers considerably. "You know, Captain."

There is a bitter taste in my mouth. "She's gone, isn't she?"

Chakotay bows his head briefly. "We've looked everywhere… and we can't find a trace of her."

I think of the last few things she said to me. "I wasn't expecting you to," I say softly.

Chakotay takes my hand gently. "The crew is meeting for lunch in the mess hall now. We thought you might like to join us. Doctor?"

The Doctor grumps. "She's going anyway, no matter what I say… but for the record, yes, she is physically fit enough to be discharged."

Chakotay chuckles a bit. "I was asking if you were coming along too."

"Oh." The Doctor looks mortally embarrassed for a moment, but quickly regains his composure. "Very well, then," he says as nonchalantly as he can.

__

Voyager seems different as I walk down the corridors on the way to the mess hall. I look for signs of her everywhere, but I find nothing. The corridors seem colder, emptier, than ever before. Already I miss the girl.

Everyone is gathered around the long table when I enter. They smile at me, but the smiles are tinged with a touch of sorrow. The three of us take our places at the usual spots. For a while nobody says anything as Neelix serves drinks.

Paris breaks the uneasy silence. "Well, at least we got through this is one piece… isn't that something worth celebrating, at least?"

His query breaks the tension, and sorrows seem to fade away in the laughter that follows. "Yes, I guess it does merit a toast," says B'Elanna.

"A toast," says Neelix emphatically, smiling.

Chakotay nods. "Seven, will you do the honors?"

Seven stands, casting only a momentary glance at her mentor, the Doctor. She taps the side of her cup with her metal-capped fingers, producing a clear ringing tone. "For the past few days, our ship has been placed in various situations of mortal danger and peril. Most others would not have been able to weather the difficulties, but Captain Janeway did. Even under duress and with her life on the line, she did not fail to hold on to her courage and sanity. She has brought us through this crisis like she has countless times over. It is because of her tenacity and belief in all of us that we have pulled through the past years in one piece, as one crew.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thus propose a toast to our captain, for her unflagging strength and faith in humanity, and all of us."

Everyone raises his or her cup. "To the captain!"

"To a wonderful ship and a wonderful crew," I rejoin.

We drink up.

Later that night, I return to my quarters to rest. The ache from missing my ship has already started to fade, although I suspect that it will be a long time before it totally disappears. And perhaps we will meet again. I think of her, and smile. My child. Chakotay tells me that he can't help but see the similarities between the two of us. I have to agree with him. After all, isn't it the captain who is responsible for thre running, and in every sense, the upbringing of her ship?

As I step out of the sonic shower, ready for bed, I notice something sitting in the replicator tray, which is odd, since I haven't ordered anything. I walk over to the replicator to see what it is.

It is a clay rose, painted in exquisite colors. I pick it up, and it feels warm in my hand, as if freshly baked from the kiln. One small corner of my mouth twitches upwards. I gaze out of the observation window, looking for the bright spot that might be Earth, where we might meet again. I set the rose down fondly on the table beside my bed with all the other pictures from home. "Sweet dreams, _Voyager_," I say softly.

I don't know what's going to happen to me now. Maybe I'll get home, maybe I won't. I think I will. And maybe I'll see Kathryn again, and all the other crewmembers. But whatever the future holds, I know one thing for sure. I am _Voyager_, and we will prevail.

#### ~THE END~

****


End file.
